Learn to Love Again
by whatfangirlwhere
Summary: There was a difference, Arthur thought, between sleeping with someone and having them sleep in the same bed as you.


_Just give me a reason_  
_Just a little bit's enough_  
_Just a second we're not broken, just bent-_  
_And we can learn to love again_  
_It's in the stars,_  
_It's been written in the scars on our hearts_  
_We're not broken just bent-_  
_And we can learn to love again…_

oOoOoOo

There was a difference, Arthur thought, between sleeping with someone and having them sleep in the same bed as you.

Sleeping with them implied that you were together, at least in his mind; entwined in limbs and heart and a simple longing to be near one another, bodies pressed up close as if they were truly nestled like spoons in a drawer. It was Arthur's favorite way to sleep, not that he'd ever admit it, and he knew for a fact that ever since Alfred was a child he liked to sleep nearly the same way, only he would wrap his arms and legs around him, as if afraid Arthur would move away from him. How ironic, Arthur would always think, that it was Alfred who'd pushed him away instead, at first simply laying further away, limbs curled around a pillow. Then he would turn so Arthur could only see his back, shoulders too broad for someone so young, and then the next time Arthur came over Alfred looked him in the eyes and told him he would be sleeping alone that night. Arthur nodded, puzzled, it had never been a spoken thing, Alfred would simply come to his room while he was there, but Alfred had made it known that he no longer desired to. And he didn't come in that night, or the night after, although in his restless night Arthur heard footsteps shuffling to a stop outside his door, but it never opened.

What happened after that, well, that was history. Arthur slept alone after that almost every night, other than quick lays and the occasional fling, but none of them felt the same, it was like being in an empty bed still, and he spent many a night pondering over that bed across the ocean, the boy who had closed himself off from the world to protect himself. It was starting to make sense to him the more he thought bout it and yet less at the same time, the bright smile that had stolen his heart and the betrayal as he tore that bond apart just to be free. He'd thought everything was fine, but of course it wasn't.

When they met again, they became close once more, but they were always so guarded, and when Arthur slept the bed felt emptier than ever, and he spent his nights wishing for him to fill those empty sheets with warmth and love once more. One night, after many bunkers shared at many a late night talk, and Alfred crept into his bed one night, when the earth shook around them and the stench of the trenches around them, and he heard boots shuffling on the wood planks on the floor, and when he rolled over he saw Alfred standing there, his expression hidden from him but his stance was that of a child, a frightened child, and Arthur understood.

"Come here, Alfred." He called out softly, and he could see the younger blond's hesitation, but then he caved, Arthur moving over to allow him to slip next to him. He laid for a moment on his side, unmoving, but then he wrapped his arms around Arthur, and then hooking one leg over him and his face burrowed into his shoulder. If he was trembling, well, Arthur never said a thing, he knew Alfred was vulnerable in this moment and he trusted Arthur enough to be there for him while he was, just like as a child, frightened by shadows of ghosts and childish fear. Not a single word was uttered between them that night, but it was enough to break down those barriers, for Arthur to understand what was in his heart now that it had broken free again. He just wrapped his arms around the larger frame in turn, holding him as if he could still protect him from all the frightening things in the world.

He couldn't, of course, and the next morning when he woke up Alfred was already gone, but it wasn't the only night it would happen and Arthur said a thing about it, only that it was much nicer to have Alfred wrapped around him, it made him feel as if Alfred was opening up his heart to him again, and on the final day of the war Alfred stood there in his uniform, clean and pressed as if the dirt and the ugliness of the war had never happened, but when his eyes locked with Arthur's he only felt pity, for eyes that had seen far too much for such a young heart. And he realized that there was something between them, something that had only festered the past century or so, in the way Alfred looked at him and he could finally see everything once more, the walls that Alfred had erected to protect himself broken down finally, all for Arthur. After that, when Alfred came over for diplomatic meetings, he would ask to stay with him, and while he stayed in the guest room it was close enough to make Arthur's heart ache, to make him hope.

"Arthur?"

He sat up, having only half dozed off-it was a decade after the war, now, and Alfred had been experiencing problems over at his place, and if he was escaping by coming over to Arthur's, well, he wouldn't blame him. The knock on his door late that night had surprised him, but he nodded and called out softly.

"Come in, lad."

There was a hesitation, as if Alfred had been caught, but then the doorknob turned and he walked inside, wearing only a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, but he didn't seem to mind, it was Arthur after all. He made his way over to the bed and pulled the sheets up, shimmying his way under them, at first there was a short distance between them that seemed like miles, like the ocean itself. But, as he knew he would, Alfred rolled over, wrapping his limbs around him and Arthur felt his tense muscles slowly relax against him, and Arthur wished again that he could protect him from this, from troubles that made his large frame feel suddenly so small. Just having him on that made with him made it feel as if all those troubles could melt away and it would just be them again, even when things had once been so broken and still were, when they would bicker, but he wanted to believe that he could fix this again, fix everything, that it was simply bent out of shape and could be mended.

"It's not hopeless, you know." He whispered as Alfred started trembling in his arms, sighing in understanding, he knew what it felt when everything felt like it was crashing around you, and he hugged the younger to his chest, one hand absently rubbing his bag, leaving no space between them, and he liked it better that way, there was no space needed between their newly blossoming love. Alfred said nothing, but he didn't need to, and that morning he was still there, curled around him and his face relaxed, features soft and without his glasses he looked like a child once more, but the warmth in Arthur's heart was different, it was like a fire that engulfed his entire being, and he closed his eyes, leaning close to brush his lips against Alfred's forehead.

"What do I do with these feelings then, I wonder?" he murmured, but Alfred only snored lightly in response and he sighed, running his fingers through the American's sandy blond hair. That morning he made (and burnt) breakfast for the both of them, but as per tradition Alfred ate every bite despite his complaints. And he would go home, after a few days, but he would always come back, now, and Arthur wondered if he was starting to feel that same fire as well, the warmth between them now as they lay in bed. There were days, though, where it seemed hopeless, that he would scream at the empty room because Alfred would cancel a trip, or they would bicker about the past and the future that Arthur wished would come to be, but his trust issues and Alfred's brashness made it difficult to breed any sort of understanding between them.

Other times, though, things would feel light, warm and happy like they had in the past, and he could feel the love growing in his heart, until one day it bloomed almost to the point of bursting in his chest, but he couldn't say it. The next time they met, though, he was at Alfred's house, laying in his old room, though it was refurbished now, staring at the ceiling, and then he decided to get out of bed. He padded along the hall quietly, swallowing thickly as he reached up, bracing himself as he knocked on the door, hearing Alfred shift in bed.

"Yeah, come on in." He said, voice rough with sleep, and Arthur hesitated briefly before he pushed the door open, going over to the bed, looking down into the half-lidded cerulean eyes that had blinked open to greet him.

"May I, ah…may I lay with you?"

Alfred looked surprised, as if he had never expected such a thing from him, and Arthur was starting to wonder if this hadn't been a bad idea, but then he nodded and a warm smile spread onto his face, one he reserved only for Arthur, and he scooted over, lifting up the covers for him.

"Sure, Arthur."

And the bed that night felt full to the brim, despite the fact they took up so little room, tangled up in each other, because of the volume of their fledgling love, maybe different now but it was like learning how to love each other all over again, and Arthur found he didn't mind that one bit. Some nights, when they would fight, Alfred would roll over and sleep with his back facing him, and it was once again as if an ocean of empty sheets between them, but as sure as the tide he would eventually roll back over and nestle himself up to Arthur once more, and they would sleep together and love together as if they had never even been broken.


End file.
